And Baru cast the first dart at hand, the words that set the coopers and the fishmongers and the bannermen of Lyxaxu and Oathsfire and Unuxekome roaring: “Show them who should rule Aurdwynn, and why.”
Vultjag! the poorer parts of the crowd screamed, a raw astonished sound. Vultjag!
I've remarked in the past that one of the problems with Dungeons & Dragons under Hasbro is that they want to downplay a lot of the uncomfortably horny elements which have historically characterised the game's implicit milieu, but certain key parts of the game's brand identity are tied up with those horny bits, and they're not willing to give that brand identity up, so they end up doing daft shit like keeping dragon-blooded sorcerers as a core class while acting like "one of your parents fucked a dragon" is the least likely explanation for how you got to be that way, resulting in a text with a strangely coy tone.
The 2024 Player's Handbook carries this policy – and the resulting tonal incoherence – forward. This is how it describes draconic sorcery:
As we can see, it even walks back the 2014 Player's Handbook's oft-mocked discussion of "bargaining" with dragons for power, in favour of proposing scenarios involving accidental exposure to draconic magic – as though a draconic sorcerer is some sort of dragon-themed Spider-Man – while grudgingly acknowledging the possibility of actual dragon-fucking almost as an afterthought.
And then it uses this image to illustrate the Draconic Sorcery subclass:
"The best thing we can do with power is give it away" - On the leftist critique of superhero narratives as authoritarian power fantasies:
The ongoing "Jason Todd is a cop" debate has reminded me of a brilliant brief image essay by Joey deVilla. So here it is, images first and the full essay text below:
"A common leftist critique of superhero comics is that they are inherently anti-collectivist, being about small groups of individuals who hold all the power, and the wisdom to wield that power.
I don’t disagree with this reading. I don’t think it’s inaccurate. Superheroes are their own ruling class, the concept of the übermensch writ large.
But it’s a sterile reading. It examines superhero comics as a cold text, and ignores something that I believe in fundamental, especially to superhero storytelling: the way people engage with text. Not what it says, but how it is read.
The average comic reader doesn’t fantasize about being a civilian in a world of superheroes, they fantasize about being a superhero. One could charitably chalk this up to a lust for power, except for one fact…
The fantasy is almost always the act of helping people. Helping the vulnerable, with no reward promised in return.
Being a century into the genre, we’ve seen countless subversions and deconstructions of the story.
But at its core, the superhero myth is about using the gifts you’ve been given to enrich the people around you, never asking for payment, never advancing an ulterior motive.
We should (and do) spend time nitpicking these fantasies, examining their unintended consequences, their hypocrisies.
But it’s worth acknowledging that the most eduring childhood fantasy of the last hundred years hasn’t been to become rich. Superheroes come from every class (don’t let the MCU fool you).
The most enduring fantasy is to become powerful enough to take the weak under your own wing. To give, without needing to take.
So yes, the superhero myth, as a text, isn’t collectivist. But that’s not why we keep coming back to it.
That’s not why children read it.
We keep coming back to it to learn one simple lesson…
The best thing we can do with power IS GIVE IT AWAY."
- Joey deVilla, 2021
https://www.joeydevilla.com/2021/07/04/happy-independence-day-superhero-style/
Three of the four elements are represented in types of hockey; Air hockey (air), field hockey (earth), ice hockey (water). Fire hockey needs to be a thing.